" "I didn't want it," replied Jack; "but who are those gentlemen?" "Friends of yours," replied Figg; "come to see you;—Sir James Thornhill, Mr. " "If only…. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. She regarded the young man coldly. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. " But she did not complete the thought aloud.
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